Needful Things
by Solitary Shadow
Summary: It wasn't because the youth loved him, he kept reminding himself. It wasn't because he was loved. It was only because he was the lone one available. Written for Dark Enchanter. [Slash]


**Disclaimer:** Klonoa and related characters are copyrighted to Namco. The authoress makes no money out of this piece of work and does not intend to. Ever.

**Author's Note:** This is a considerably dark angsty piece for Dark Enchanter. It's the very pairing he created and made me love. He should know what's going on.

This is for you, DE. It's made with freshly fished out vampire and wolf romance with bucketfuls of self hate and angstsauce, laced with a little of NC-17-ness.

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He doesn't love me.

Oh sure, he's waiting for me right in my house right now. But that's because I put him there. It's only because there is no escape, nothing else left that he stays with me. If I set him free, I know that he'll walk straight out and never return to me again.

I can't stand the way he looks at me all the time. Everytime I enter the house he looks up at my eyes and doesn't look away. Fuck, it makes me so bloody uneasy. He's trying to catch me off guard so he can get out.

You see? All those months and I'm still suspcious. No wonder no one loves me.

It's not because he wants to escape that he never looks away. He's just conveying all his emotions onto me. His deep, resentful sapphire eyes bore into mine in a surprising contrast. There used to be hate in them. There used to deep resent, anger and fire in them. Not anymore. There's just blankness in them now, blankness that I find frightening. I liked it better when he was actively trying to kill me and hated me.

Now he does nothing and let me do everything I like.

And that's what scares me.

Because I think I love him.

Yet now he doesn't do anything to resist my advances. If I throw him across the room (not like I ever did, though) he'd let me do it and get up quietly afterwards, or just sit there staring into space. If I kiss him he'll let me make advances, but he won't kiss back. If I want to fuck he'll just let me, but his eyes never change. Those eyes no longer shine with malice and life, like they used to before. They're just... empty. Dull. Tarnished.

He no longer has any emotions.

Damn it, every day I wish he'll do something that will show feelings. Show anger, sadness... I want him to smile, or laugh, or break down and sob, or even snap and go on a rampage, anything, just to be sure that he feels _something_ towards me. One of those days, I swear I'll give up and let him mangle my body, stick a stake into my chest and leave. Because I know he'll stand over me, while sneering and laughing. Well, it's an emotion.

And where would he go when he leaves?

Back to that cabbit, surely. He loves the cabbit. It's been a few months since he's last seen that boy, but he hasn't forgotten. He loves him and will leave me if he has the chance.

It doesn't seem to matter much to me now. Nothing seems to. However much I mark him, however much I hurt him to confirm that he really is mine, he won't be. Ever. He does all the things that I expect, like moaning and acting according to instincts on those nights, but I never feel that he is mine to have. He's broken alright; but I never wanted to break him. All I wanted from him was his love and emotions.

Maybe I'll let him go soon. I can't stand it anymore, living with someone who is hardly alive. That's rich, coming from me.

Or maybe this is all a trick. Maybe he isn't broken and he's acting like it to try to break _me_. But he's sure acting well if that's the case.

Maybe, just maybe, I'll drink his blood by force. Then he'll be mine, whether he has emotions, or whether he wants to be mine or not. He'll have to stay with me.

But I want him to be mine of his own will.

If I make him feel good enough, let him feel true pleasure, then he would want to be my love. He'll want to stay with me if I get it just perfect. One day he might just love me back...

God, I'm such an idiot. No wonder I'm an outcast. No wonder when I disappeared from Lunatea to live alone, they all mourned my disappearence for about five minutes and forgot all about me. It's not surprising that he hasn't succumbed to my affections. I feel jealous - yes, jealous. Of that cabbit. That boy loves him and he loves the boy back... and I'm the one in between, wanting to let go and forget but wanting - needing - one of them so _much_. It's a mental _menage a trois_, almost.

He doesn't love me. He never will. Oh, I can do certain things to him, of course. I can make him feel good, I can make him scream for me. That makes it seem like he loves me.

But he doesn't.

I want him to love me. I want him to be comfortable in my presence - I want - I want him.

Is it really so _wrong_ that I want him to like me, even just a little? Just a little for being who I am? It shouldn't be this hard to get someone to like me. It's not like I want him to be obssesive over me or anything... I _would_ like him to be, of course, but I would be content with just a smile or glance at me that shows some positive emotion.

But no. God, no. No one loves me, so why should it really matter if I'm on top of him now, stripping him of his clothes and making him moan? It wouldn't make any difference. No, none at all. It'll just be another night for him, another night that should be over soon.

Fuck, I care for him because I _need_ him, damnit... I need him too much. There's no one else around here for me. He's the only one who's ever submitted to me, regardless of whether by will or by force. I may be a bloodsucker and a social outcast, but even I need someone close to me.

I remember when he tried to attack me with a stake. That stake had been made in the most unorthodox manner; plank snapped off the underside of the bed. I was mystified over it for a few hours, but then realized when the bed sagged noticeably. He can be so immature and unthinking at those times.

That's part of his charm, I guess.

"You're mine," I growl in his ear as he cries out quietly underneath me. "Come for me."

But he isn't.

He'll only love that cabbit. For _ever_.

He doesn't love me, I keep reminding myself. He's _not_ here because he loves me.

It's because I'm the only one here.

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Why the hell do I always have to make it dark when it comes to this pairing? One day I will snap, I swear it, and write about them two sharing ice cream and cotton candy while lounging about in Joilant, while Zweegle screams 'kawaii!' about five million times. That should submerge me further into insanity.

Yay for the demented Zweegle x Guntz pairing and the faint Klonoa x Guntz which was sort of there. Sort of.


End file.
